


Reward

by razielim



Series: Merry Smutmas 2016 [8]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Precome as Lube, Anal bleeding, Aphrodisiacs, Blood As Lube, Blood and Injury, Come Inflation, Gang Rape, M/M, Public Rape, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 00:12:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8944924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/razielim/pseuds/razielim
Summary: Even the mightiest in the arena must still bend the knee before the Galra. When Sendak leads two of his lieutenants into the arena, Shiro's not entirely sure what to expect, but the look in their eyes has him feeling sick. As he looks around, there's a lot of cameras and no escape routes.for pop-culture-obsessed





	

Shiro couldn’t wrap his mind around what was happening. It obviously wasn’t good for him, with the way his Galra captors kept jeering and whistling and whispering. Usually it was the crowds that were wild and unruly. The guards themselves were dismissive and bored, their job the same every day.

But today was obviously going to be different.

He’d already bested the previous champion, what sort of ungodly creature was he going to battle today?

As soon as he stepped into arena, every display was his face, a step out of the usual. The crowd was roaring as it usually did, but his guards did not drop off at the edge of the arena. He was frogmarched to the very center before his entourage stopped and waited. 

The volume of the crowd swelled. 

Shiro tried to ignore his own face on the screens, but he knew his unaffected expression was becoming progressively less convincing. 

Finally, a captain of some form ran out of a corner entrance to the stadium and waved a hand up, looking behind him nervously. Immediately, the guards fell upon him, claws snagging and easily tearing through thin fabric. Shiro barely had time to gasp in shock before he was mostly exposed, the last strips of black fabric being hurriedly ripped off his ankles and wrists and thrown into a pile that was gathered and carried off. 

Confused and vulnerable, Shiro just barely resisted the temptation of twisting in on himself to hide from the cameras that were immediately scrutinizing every inch of him and displaying the intimate view to the crowd. Instead, he kept his shoulders out, back straight, and as casually as he could manage, cupped a hand over his goods. No matter how much it stung to be revealed like this, he couldn't show his insecurity to his captors, who would gladly exploit it. 

From the same corner of the arena, flanked by his close staff and lieutenants, emerged Sendak. Shiro’s gut sank, the cold sensation of fear rippling down his body. How had he not noticed that Sendak wasn't in his usual spot next to Zarkon in the viewing box?

The guards around him spread out, their poses suddenly tense. 

Shiro lifted his jaw a smidge, clinging to the last of his bravery as Sendak stopped a few paces from him. Fake it ‘til you make it. 

Sendak scoffed, every line of his face etched with calm amusement. Even that was unfamiliar, as Sendak usually walked around with malice written all over, his only grins being ones that promised pain.

Sendak spread his hands, and the cameras focused on him as he spun around slowly, acknowledging the crowd that shouted and growled and trilled louder than ever before. Stopping to face Zarkon, Sendak waited for a nod before dropping his arms. Looking to his lieutenants, he gave a nod of his own, and they immediately advanced.

Shiro only took half a step back, nerves screaming at him to run but the last of his rationale thinking rooting him to the spot.

Claws grabbed him, swinging him around, pushing him down, kicking his feet out from under him, holding him to the sand of the arena. His fear betrayed him and he now tried to fight, tried to escape, suffocating in the suddenly defenseless position. It was only when the hands grabbed at his thighs that Shiro’s mind made the connection.

“The Champion!” came Sendak’s voice, amplified throughout the arena. Shiro spit out sand and turned his head to look, but his eyes caught onto the displays, which were showing not Sendak, but Shiro’s ass, spread for the cameras by large Galra hands. “He has proven himself mighty, cunning, and resilient. He has been rewarded for these things. He eats with Galra now. He is housed with Galra. He receives the best medical aid- Galra tech, even. But tonight, we are here to remind him that he is not Galra. We are here to remember the importance of humility. We are here to remind you all that even the most powerful must bend the knee before the Galra empire.  _ Especially  _ the most powerful.”

Shiro grit his teeth as a sob threatened to break out. Sendak was lying. Shiro had gotten no special treatment aside from the tech, and even that had been attached without anaesthetic, the witches grinning down to answer his screams.

He struggled again. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t need to be knocked down a peg. He hadn’t done anything arrogant or ungrateful. He hadn’t been given special treatment. He didn’t deserve this.

There were more claws on him, more weight, his sight blocked by the knee of a nearby alien. Then there was something warm and hot and slick pressing against him, and Shiro screamed, wrestling to get his hands free.

“Please!”

His pride didn’t matter anymore. His unaffected, fearless image didn’t matter. He just wanted to be safe.

The cock slipped through his crack, brushing across his skin weirdly, and then pulling and prickling painfully on the return stroke. Shiro choked. The knee next to his face shifted and he got a clear view of a screen showing just how massive the cock behind him was. And how textured.

At seeing the barbs, Shiro screamed again, watching his own hips jerk on the display, but the Galra lieutenant behind him kept rubbing against him, cock leaving behind a thick, near opaque blackish fluid that clung to Shiro’s skin and glistened wetly.

Then the image on the screen was his face, blotched with red, teardrops hanging off wet eyelashes, sand in his hair and skin, and Shiro turned away, nauseous. The crowd around him was as jubilant as ever before. They could see. They could all see how scared he was and they didn’t care. 

The rubbing stopped, replaced by intense pressure.

“Consider yourself lucky, Champion. Predak is the smallest of us. I thought we’d take some pity on you and open you up slowly. The last slave that started with my cock ended up dead,” came Sendak’s voice, low, apologetic, and unamplified from nearby. 

Then the large ugly head pushed in past his rim and Shiro screamed again. The burning yielded to stinging, the sting was eclipsed by pain, and all in a matter of moments as the Galra officer pushed into him with unforgiving speed. 

He heard his own voice, broken, submissive,  _ sobbing, _ begging for it to stop. He hadn't done anything to deserve this. He lost the air in his lungs as the pain spread deeper inside him, and his pleas were drowned out by the crowd. There was a pause, a brief respite as his body fluttered around the awful intrusion inside him, revolting against it, but alive and free from new pain for a moment. There was a growl, low and menacing, right beside his head, and suddenly the pain flared all over again, worse and pulling as those barbs inside him caught on his sensitive insides. Shiro screamed, clawing at the sand, unable to find purchase, whipping his head around, trying to see a way out, a way-

Splayed out on the nearest screen was a close up of his ass, stretched impossibly wide by the spiny cock inside him. As he watched, the cock stopped again, and Shiro could feel inside himself that it was out of necessity as the spines dug in so deep and painful that it was impossible to pull further. Then he was pushed into again and it hurt so much less to be spread deep than to be pricked by barbs that Shiro sobbed in relief. As he watched the next thrust and the next, trying to disconnect, trying to be nothing more than a witness to his own brutal rape, he wondered if it really was impossible for the Galra to pull out entirely, or if it would simply kill Shiro. 

Would it really be so bad to die now? To avoid being alive and conscious for the next cock that took him, which Sendak had informed him would be larger?

The Galra’s dick started pulling out, tinged red with human blood, and through bitter tears, Shiro saw the trickle of blood slip down between his legs, floating through the sticky black Galra fluids. 

Shiro grit his teeth and looked away as the pace sped up, the shallow thrusts seemingly shredding his insides. He wondered if maybe this was a dream. Maybe this was someone else’s body he was trapped in right now. 

The pain had his vision of the sand going spotty with black. And then, suddenly, heat bloomed. 

Shiro gasped as he was filled with scalding fluid. Then the pain and burn receded, to be replaced with warm tingling, like he'd been injected with anaesthetic. When the sensation didn't go away, he realized that that was actually not too far from the truth. The pain wasn't returning so something in the ejaculate must have had numbing properties. Then the Galra withdrew and Shiro gasped, feeling every thick inch of it, smooth now that it was turning flaccid. Not numbing, then. Pain relieving?

The Galra stood up, and Shiro’s knees slid out, dropping his hips the short distance to the sand, his entire lower body feeling weak and spent. He managed to look up at the screen and fresh tears broke out at the sight. Fresh blood and grey goop dripped out of a prolapsed anus. He shuddered, wondering if he'd also die of this. Was this how they made sure no Champion kept the title for too long?

Another Galra walked up behind him, sitting on his haunches, and Shiro watched as his rosebud was wiped of the mess on it. The camera zoomed in as those fingers smeared the fluids around, rubbing them into the rolls of angry red flesh. Shiro shuddered, the sensation too much, even without the pain. Then he lurched, tearing his eyes from the screen as those large purple fingers pushed inside him, feeling around roughly. Shiro cried out, trying to crawl forward and away, but held in place by the unforgiving claws of the other Galra. He moaned as he was probed deeper, and it echoed in his ears, too loud. 

Eyes flying open, he checked the screen again. It was still showing between his legs but the next one over reflected back his surprised eyes and drooling mouth. The fingers inside him twisted and he moaned again, the sound once more reverberating loudly through the arena.

No.

He hid his face and grit his teeth, not moving when the fingers pulled out and the Galra behind him stood. There was some shuffling and the sounds of belt clasps clicking as Shiro tried to dig himself into his mind and hide from the world. Someone else came up behind him.

There was hot breath on the back of his neck, and an even hotter presence hovering between his legs. A soft growl and a long wet lick across his tense back. The lick turned into grooming, and as the cock pressed up against his ruined body, the tongue traveled up his neck and into his hair. It laved over his ear, back down his neck, and to his left shoulder, the wet sounds echoing in the stadium.

Then came Sendak’s voice, heavy in his ear, and husky in every ear of the audience.

“You’re going to enjoy this.”

Shiro squeezed his eyes tighter as Sendak pushed in and the sobs ripped out of his body in quick hyperventilating succession. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t enjoy this. He wasn’t even here. This wasn’t real. 

He moaned, his back arching, as Sendak pulled out, his spines dragging across already torn flesh without provoking any further agony. Gasping, he looked up to find that no one was holding his arms down any more. The only hands on him were Sendak’s on his hips as he rolled another thrust in and out, his cock larger and filling Shiro more than the previous one had.

Shiro moaned again, fingers digging into sand to pull himself forward as Sendak started to lick him again. He lifted his head to see the screen at the worst moment. Sendak’s teeth teased his neck and his cock raked spread spines across Shiro’s rectum, and Shiro had to watch himself moan needily on camera before his eyes rolled back. It was loud, and it echoed more than any previous noise he’d made, amplified by so many devices. Shiro wished he could tear his own throat out.

Sendak’s laugh in his ear was so low and intimate that it barely registered on the sound system.

The pace was picking up and Shiro could do nothing to stop the mews it pulled out of him as his body was destroyed further.

Then Sendak rolled them over and sheer shock shut Shiro up.

He lay panting on Sendak’s belly, legs spread obscenely and refusing to obey and close. He gasped air and looked around, helpless, exposed, terrified.

Then a Galra lieutenant, awful cock bared and leaking black, stepped between his and Sendak’s legs, and Shiro’s sight zeroed in on him as he kneeled. Shiro watched him, confused when he didn’t do anything, but it was Sendak’s hand that moved, and Shiro watched it with growing concern as it reached between his legs. Shiro squealed when two talons brushed him alongside the dick inside him, adding pressure. He turned his head to see the screen just in time to watch Sendak’s fingers slip inside him and pull. A dark gap appeared, framed by the human blood and Galra fluids slickly shining on Sendak’s hand and cock. 

Then the other Galra moved and Shiro turned his head between screen and alien as he tried to deny what was about to happen.

As the head of the second cock pushed inside him, Sendak’s fingers slipped out, returning to holding Shiro’s hips as they started to shake.

“No!” echoed in his voice throughout the stadium.

Shiro flailed, unable to make any coordinated movement but desperate to get away. As the cock slipped deeper, there was a sick sound of something ripping and Shiro screamed, the pain pushing past the numbing agent that had dulled things for him. He kept screaming as the Galra on top of him slid the last bit in. He screamed as Sendak resumed his licking. He screamed as the other Galra officer joined in the grooming.

Then he was too tired to scream, and merely cried.

It had stopped hurting once more. There was a vague dull ache, but nothing as awful or sharp as even the first time he had been penetrated that night, though Shiro knew it was much worse.

He sniffed, realizing that neither alien inside him had moved. He waited for them to kill him with his eyes closed, angry with himself for not dying in the arena sooner, before becoming Champion. Sendak finally paused his licking and grabbed his chin, turning it to one side.

“Watch.”

Shiro forced his eyes open despite the sticky tears and exhaustion. On the screen in front of him was the best possible closeup of his ass and the two cocks pressed into him. As he watched, the Galra on top of him pulled out, dripping blood, rivulets of it running down Sendak’s cock. There was a sickening squelching noise as it popped the entire way out, spines settling back against the flesh and Shiro both feeling and seeing his pelvis and abdomen drop in volume at the loss.

He moaned as he was opened up again, though for a moment he thought he could see exactly where his body had ripped earlier. He couldn’t watch anymore, the nausea rising at the sight of his own dying body, and he dropped his head against Sendak again.

Sendak nuzzled his ear with a purr.

“You’re doing well, Champion,” and it sounded so proud that Shiro almost believed him.

The alien on top of him was picking up speed, the loud noises of his rutting drowning out Sendak’s voice to the audience.

“I don’t want to die like this,” he breathed, certain that if Sendak’s ear were any smaller, he wouldn’t have been able to hear.

He felt Sendak’s furry face grin against his neck.

“You won’t. We’ll stitch you back up and have you fight again.”

Shiro couldn’t resist looking into that face for confirmation, somehow now more horrified than tired or despaired. 

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t do this again.”

Sendak licked his face, his breath tasting of Galran spices, strong and perfumed. As he licked up into Shiro’s hair, he spoke, “Maybe next time, I’ll convince Zarkon that just my own cock will be enough. I would enjoy seeing you bleed on my bed.”

Shiro sobbed again, the bitterness in him rising. He never did anything to deserve this. He never-

The Galra fucking him came with a groan, scalding heat flooding Shiro once more, wrenching another scream out before it settling into warm heat, making the world spin as it tingled up his spine and into his cock.

Sendak put a hand on Shiro’s tummy, and Shiro was surprised to find it swelling and bulging. He hadn’t been able to tell that there was so much come inside him, but now that he noticed, the ache across the skin there was obvious. Sendak’s hand moved lovingly over the swell as the alien cooed and purred.

Then Sendak rolled them over once more, Shiro’s dazed mind struggling to register the movement, and started to rut slowly.

Shiro moaned as the spines inside him seemed to gently tickle his insides. He tried to stop his drooling, but his lips would not obey. He tried to crawl, but his hands would not move. Instead, he lay there and listened to his own desperate moaning and begging being projected back to him from a thousand speakers, rivaling the roar of a cheering crowd. 

Sendak’s tongue felt incredible on his neck.

The spines inside him stimulated everything just the right way.

He cracked an eye open and watched his own face, broken with despair and lust. On the other screen, he saw Sendak’s sculpted rear rolling enticingly as he fucked a prone, unresponsive body.

Shiro felt the orgasm coming, felt it roll over him, and then, thankfully, he felt nothing more.


End file.
